


Layers

by Sarita1046



Category: Dark Tower - Stephen King, The Dark Tower (2017)
Genre: Agender Character, Humiliation, M/M, Revenge Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-14 16:32:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11787072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarita1046/pseuds/Sarita1046
Summary: Walter's death at Roland's hand has an unexpected outcome.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Next installment will feature Roland.
> 
>  
> 
> Musical inspiration: "The Vampire Masquerade" by Peter Gundry

He was known by many names.

The Man in Black, The Walking Man, Walter Padick…among others.

Tirana couldn’t deny that this human was terrifying. Extraordinarily powerful and a mortal who had made himself immortal, many Skins believed he couldn’t be killed.

Tirana felt otherwise. 

Ever since leaving her homeworld to serve the Man in Black, she hadn’t mourned the concealment of her true face – nor the assumption of Keystone human gender assigned to such features. 

On Tirana’s world, there was only one gender, and the people reproduced at will. In that sense, she supposed, there was no gender.

Her master seemed to like the face she chose. She knew that on Keystone Earth, where Walter was from, there existed two genders. Male and female.

When Walter complimented the face she wore, it hardly surprised Tirana. Before coming to work for the Man in Black, she had researched his species. Best to take on a form that would sit well with the one in charge.

Now she found she liked wearing a woman’s face. She liked the way Walter looked at her. His gaze always lingered longer on her – on her eyes – than on any of his other henchman, most of the other Skins having assumed male visages. 

 

Then he’d attacked her – burned the flesh of her face. 

The subtle respect and growing curiosity had only been enhanced with the rage and indignancy that she’d felt.

Her livid emotions were interlaced with perverse yearning as she resolved to become this creature’s undoing.

 

It was deep into the night of the pursuit of the boy, Jake Chambers. The human from Keystone Earth whom Walter planned to use to bring down the tower.

Tirana was prepared to take down Walter the moment the tower fell. She would wait until he was distracted with gloating and then seize the opportunity. It wouldn't be easy, but it was possible. He might not age, but a human could always be killed. The element of surprise was her only ally. She'd settled on a plan to break his neck from behind.

Once free, she would use one of his portals to escape back home. There must be one that led to her world...

A mighty beam quake shook the very ground around her. As always, she was certain she heard screams in the beam itself.

Creeping through the dark corridors of the base, Tirana stood with her back against the wall, idly fingering the nearly healed burn mark on her cheek.

She had to stay out of sight before anyone noticed she was gone. Not that she particularly wanted to see any of their judgmental faces following such recent humiliation. 

“ _Tirana_ ,” came the sharp whisper.

It sounded familiar somehow, from years ago.

Turning the corner, Tirana bit her lower lip as she set eyes on the figure before her. Her progenitor.

Taken aback, Tirana struggled with how to react. She hadn’t laid eyes on one of her own species – much less her progenitor – for so long that her mouth had gone dry.

“Tirana child,” the low serene voice accompanied kind eyes.

“Is it really you?” Tirana found her voice at last, speaking in her own tongue.

“Yes,” replied the one before her, “It’s wonderful to see you after all these years.”

“How did you make it here?” Tirana whispered loudly.

“I managed passage through one of the old portals. Now child, one the beam quake dies away, the portal will close again, so I haven’t much time. Will you please come back with me?”

“Yes.” Tirana was nearly in tears. “Please, yes. Leaivng int he first place was reckless, I just wanted something new. But this isn't an new, it's terrifying. If there is truly a portal, please can we return home now? If the universe is to fall, I want to be with our people.”

“Always the loyal one, aren’t we?” came the low, suave voice from behind her.

Tirana’s blood ran cold as she turned away from the still smiling image before her to face the somber expression of the Man in Black.

“No,” was all she managed, glancing back wildly at the progenitor – who had vanished.

“Now don’t take it too hard,” replied Walter, “As a manager, it’s pretty much a necessity to test the loyalty of those who aid me in my efforts.”

Tirana remained silent, chest heaving. The shadows around them seemed to expand as the Man in Black sauntered up to her, closing the several meters of distance between them.  


“Now I know where you stand,” he continued, “Pity, following your choice to leave your world. To leave your people for our cause here. Tell me, why the sudden change of heart? Is it because of this?”

With that, he brushed two fingers ever so softly across her cheekbone.

“You heal quickly,” he observed quietly, dark grey eyes never leaving her blue gaze.

She swallowed hard.

“Let’s see just how quickly.”

Tirana barely had time to register his words before she was shoved hard against the opposite wall of the corridor, the wind knocked out of her chest.

Opening her eyes, she came face to face with the Man in Black.

Acting on instinct, Tirana lashed out with her fist, only to have both arms pinned to the wall on either side of her head by an unseen force. She let out a low hiss following the sharp pain that shot through the knuckles of both her hands. Feet now rooted to the floor as well, she was effectively stuck.

“You know,” returning to the gentleness of the touch he’d given her face, Walter closed his fingers around one of her shoulders, so she couldn’t sidle away. “I’d always wondered about your species, in particular. You choose the face of a human female…yet you’re strong of will and that voice. It’s low.”

Tirana held her breath, refusing to break his stare.

“Sorcerers have our own shine, Tirana,” he still didn’t smile, though there was a strange glee in his eyes as he held Tirana's gaze without blinking, “I can feel your emotions just as easily as I can… _sense_ your other aspects.”

That voice sounded like melted silver.

“Wh-what…”

“Ah ah, it’s my turn to speak,” Walter chided, his grip on her arm not changing, “There’s no use playing ignorant. We both know the power involved in this mission intrigues you. It intrigues all of us. Yet now you’re trying to escape. Normally that would bother me, but you see, I’m in a bright mood today. We’ve won. The universe is coming down, and I’ve decided you deserve a parting gift for your efforts.”

Just as Tirana felt her eyes might begin to water from not blinking, her thoughts were shattered by a sensation unlike anything she’d experienced.

Spreading from her belly to her toes to her fingertips, a rich euphoria had begun. Glancing down wildly, Tirana was horrified to see that the Man in Black now had both his hands behind his back, the subtlest hint of a smile on his lips.

“You’re both - to a human anyway,” the sorcerer drawled, “You don’t need a partner to continue your people. What a fascinating species. Man and woman all at once and yet, neither. We’ve truly done life a favor by opening up the universe to the exotic forces beyond. More specimens like you…what a gift.”

By now, Tirana thought her legs might give out, as the warm tingling approached a crescendo between her thighs. Somehow her fingertips and toes felt especially hot.

“You’re actually glowing, you know that?” the Man in Black was nearly grinning now. "All work and no play - seems like you don't even understand your own nature. Maybe you're more than just a pretty face. Shall we see how deep your layers go?"

Something was wrong. Tirana couldn’t control her breathing, as she felt suddenly lightheaded.

Just as her vision swam to blackness, this Skin heard one more whisper.

"Happy apocalypse."


	2. Chapter 2

Roland had to admit – the sheer power this boy Jake had turned out to have impressed him. Never before had he heard of an entity with enough shine to hold open a portal.

And just now, it seemed that Jake was his only hope of escape after putting down Walter…and Roland was determined to take him out.

Over the years, the constant visions of his mother and father had nearly driven Roland mad. Yet, even more than the visions of his loved ones, the moments when he could feel Walter’s presence shook him to the very core.

The sorcerer had a way of infiltrating one’s entire mind and physical form – making them see and feel whatever he desired. Roland had wondered on more than one occasion why the Man in Black tended to infuse his visions with an almost sensual atmosphere…or perhaps Roland truly had begun to lose his mind.

Although the former gunslinger would never admit it – even fully to himself – he’d developed a certain craving for the dreams where Walter visited. Even more, he yearned for the waking visions, when he would find himself roused from a doze to the feather light touch of breath just over his lips.

That breath smelt of sweet spice and something else – perhaps wet pine. 

He caught himself wondering if the sorcerer knew the scent of his own skin. Had Walter actually taken control of his mind? His very desires? After all, how many times had Roland’s hands wandered in the night, seeking sweet release to the very thought of that natural woodsy perfume?

 _At least three times every week,_ came the voice inside his head. _You never have disappointed your audience._

He wouldn’t stand for this. He had _not_ forgotten the face of his father. And no matter how many centuries of power this creature had accumulated, he would not succeed in making Roland forget his own honor.

He refused to succumb to the darkness, whether that meant being killed by Walter or simply toyed with until he’d die of shame alone.

Forcing himself to his feet, Roland delivered those three fatal shots that would seal both their fates.

 

Walter Padick awoke to the sound of horns blaring some ways away. The ground beneath his head was hard, and his skull throbbed horribly.

Then the air flew into his lungs with a shock that rattled his entire body.

Remembering the final bullet, Walter reached up a hand to touch his forehead. 

Nothing.

After checking his torso, the Man in Black realized that he was entirely healed. Healed and lying in the same alleyway where he had fallen to Roland’s gun.

So this was what his magics were truly capable of. Shot in the brain and healed, but…

Gesturing with a hand toward the closed door before him that led to the street outside, Walter’s worst fear was confirmed.

The door remained still. For centuries, his powers had shielded him from many enemies. He'd spent nearly all that time ensuring timely death for those who sought to keep the universe closed, all the while managing to avoid death himself.

Until death came - and he still survived. Yet at what price? His blood ran cold, willing away long-buried memories of violent coersion and pain from before he had learned the ways of sorcery. Humiliation and horrors to which any average mortal always had been and always would be susceptible.

Now for the first time in over a millennia, he was trapped on Keystone Earth, and he had no magic.


	3. Chapter 3

Trudging along on unstable feet, Walter eventually managed to right himself before exiting through the metal door and out onto the sidewalk.

What had begun as a slow drizzle audible from inside the building was quickly turning into steady rainfall. The former sorcerer pulled his cloak tighter around himself, against the oddly brisk humidity.

He hadn’t felt the weather this vividly in…he couldn’t remember how long.

To Walter’s relief, the dark streets were fairly free of pedestrians. 

Best to just keep your head down, he thought. He couldn’t believe how low he had been pushed in a matter of several hours.

After turning several more corners and wracking his brain trying to decide where to keep warm for the night, Walter nearly collided with someone.

“Hey mister, watch where you’re going,” cooed a feminine voice.

Walter glanced up.

“Get lost on your way to a bachelorette party?” the woman before him asked. Her face was covered in makeup, and she was wearing…well, more or less what he wore, as far as he could tell.

“Bachelorette party? You were in my way,” Walter nearly berated his own reckless reply, but then again, she was a woman. Probably wouldn’t do much. 

“Is that how you wanna be?” the woman looked incredulous, eyes bright in the lamplight. “Think I want to be out here? We all have our shifts. Haven’t seen any of you guys on this corner though. Don’t you usually stay over by Ricky’s? Come on, I’m curious now. Got nothing better to do out in the rain. A trench coat like that can only mean one of two things. Strip or hustle?”

Walter nearly scoffed, finally realizing this ridiculous misunderstanding. “Not a performer or a hooker,” he drawled.” Don’t you wish, honey. Now stop breathing.”

Those words he truly did regret the moment they were uttered, but old habits die hard. 

What he didn’t expect was the spray that burned his eyes until he cried out. Flailing with his hands, he managed to grab the woman by her jacket collar, only to be punched hard in the jaw.

Finally mustering up the will to open his eyes, he who was known by many as the Man in Black took in the sight of the woman now holding a knife to his throat.

“What’s your deal, huh? Gonna call my boss…”

Before she could say anymore, Walter lost his cool, kneeing her swiftly in her soft middle. When she recovered quickly and went for his face with the blade, Walter stepped swiftly to the side and knocked her hard on the forehead with his fist.

After she fell to the ground unconscious, he instantly hissed and cradled his hand which was now throbbing. Human mortals truly were among the weakest species, and it irked him to be one of them again.

Humiliated, Walter quickly glanced around to make sure no one had witnessed that. Fortunately, they’d been in a small alley and the night was still.

“Well, well,” said a low, clear voice from behind him, “A mere mortal nearly had you. Where’s your magic that you had to use your fists on someone smaller than you?”

Spinning around, Walter found himself facing Tirana.

This could not be happening.

“You…” he began.

“Save it,” Tirana quipped. “Jake Chambers knows I defected from the mission to destroy the tower - as well as the unfortunate incident of your survival. Roland wants to see you.”

“You think you can….”

For the second time that night, the Man in Black was silenced, this time by the fist of his former henchwoman.

Tirana smiled down on his newly unconscious form, pelted by the growing rain shower. 

“Seems you can’t even take on a Skin anymore. Not without your magic. The last layer has been peeled away.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally wanted to end it here with a cliffy, but am open to suggestions if there's something anyone would like to see in a continuation. :) Thanks for reading this far!


	4. Chapter 4

Roland willed his thumping heart to calm, to no avail.

Waiting for that Skin to return with Walter was no simple feat. If it weren’t for Jake’s vision, the Gunslinger wouldn’t have believed he were still alive…alive, and mortal….

Not so idly, Roland wondered if that now made the Man in Black weaker than himself? For without his magics, what had he been? A human rotten to the very core since birth. A mortal who had burned down his adoptive father’s home and sought to gain enough power to take over first the world - and then the entire universe.

Now he had been stripped of that power…he was truly _nothing_ once again.

“Here he is,” the one called Tirana announced as she emerged out the metal door into the alley where Roland stood, after he’d left Jake to wait back beyond the portal.

For a moment, Roland could do nothing but observe the seemingly unconscious man who Tirana had just flung down unceremoniously from over her shoulder.

“I will go now,” Tirana stated, turning to leave.

“You have my thanks. Leave Keystone Earth. Never return.”

With that, Tirana was gone.

Now what to do?

Bury him alive. In the fresh soil. No coffin necessary. Roland supposed they still had graveyards in this ‘modern’ world. Few horrors exceeded waking up under layers of earth, suffocating slowly until the final breath ceased to flow.

No one would look for him. No one would care, when they no longer feared him. Now that there was nothing left to fear…

Hoisting Walter up over his shoulders, Roland contemplated when he would return to Jake. For now, the boy was safest back in Arra’s village. Roland would be sure to go back following this final act.

The night was quiet. Somewhere far off, a dark barked. Just above the overhang of the building under which Roland tread, something dark flitted by before vanishing back up into the velvet black beyond.

Roland nearly stopped walking when he heard one of those cars approaching. Then he increased his pace. 

From several leagues down the street behind him, lights began to flash as a car door opened.

“Sir, please stop right there.”

Walter turned slightly, still walking, to see a man in a kind of uniform. Law enforcement or military, perhaps.

“Forgive me,” Roland replied, though he did halt, “I must be somewhere.”

“Has there been an accident?” the law enforcement man asked, closing the distance to where Roland still carried his enemy of decades on his shoulders.

Roland just stared. “I have a mission.”

“Sir, I’m going to need you to very carefully place the man on the ground and show me your hands.”

He had nothing to hide. And Walter couldn’t do anything while powerless.

Slowly, Roland complied, though he let Walter slide rather harshly onto the sidewalk below.

"Want to tell me what you two are doing out there?" the law man asked. 

“I was accompanying him to the burial yard to pay respects to a loved one lost,” Roland lied hastily.

“Then how come he's passed out?” the man asked.

This law person was clever. Just as Roland went for his gun, the policeman shouted something and Roland was hit on the shoulder with a pistol.

Though it didn’t slow him much, he whirled around to face a female policeman who now held the pistol a centimeter from his nose.

“Move at all and I’ll shoot,” she deadpanned. 

Meanwhile, Roland stood helplessly, seething as the male policeman checked on Walter.

“He’s breathing. Signs of a light head wound, but I can’t be sure how bad in this lighting. We’ll take in them both. Maybe grave robbers fighting over the loot.”

 

The car ride to the…jail cell was uneventful, Walter coming in and out as Roland argued with his heart whether to just strange him on the spot and get this over with.

The prison cell itself was musty, the walls closing in on him with their dank scent. Even worse, was his worst enemy that now sat across from him on the opposite bench, looking sullen with his chin in his palm. 

“You haven’t killed me,” Walter stated the obvious.

“Death will come,” Roland retorted, not looking at the man before him.

How low had he come? A devout warrior thrown in with this man of pure evil? A Gunslinger brought down by the threat of the very weapon he wielded? That had now been taken from him…

“Why?” it was that smooth voice again, one that made Roland want to both rip out his ears and strange anyone who came near. “I was lying helpless before you. Why not finish me off? I’m _nothing_ anymore.”

“You’ve been nothing since you murdered your own father in his home,” Roland murmured.

In truth, the Gunslinger refused to murder in the sight of other humans. 

The Man in Black – if he could even be called such any longer for reasons beyond his attire- was nothing if not resourceful. Pure desperation and despair taking over, as they once had after that man had taken him by force that night centuries ago. 

_Get them to let down their guard – until you can escape. Or better yet, until you can take them down._

As much as it pained him to admit it, Walter could not hope to take on Walter ina fair match. Not anymore.

If he could just get to a position behind Roland, that might give him leverage to gouge out the Gunslinger’s eyes with his fingers or even strangle him, if he was lucky. 

 

Realizing he had dozed off, Roland jerked awake. That trip back through the portal must have taken more of his energy than he expected.

Opening his eyes, the cell seemed even darker now as his vision struggled to adapt.

Heart leaping into his throat, relief instantly followed as he made out Walter on the opposite bench, laying horizontally. 

Now that Roland was fully awake, he could tell the room was not fully dark at all. Moonlight streamed in from the window, supplemented by the dim light of the empty security desk outside the cell.

Gaze wandering back over to Walter, he soon realized that the former sorcerer had removed his black jacket, and lay with one knee bent, as if trying to relax. 

“Do you feel it?” the sudden sound of that velvet voice nearly even made Roland jump. “The thick heat. Like the walls are closing in…”

“Stop it,” Roland commanded thickly, willing his own paranoia to stay away.

“All those years roaming the wilds…the barren desert. Now you’re trapped and you don’t even know when or if you’ll make it out.”

Even without his powers, that voice still held such sway. Such a presence.

“No one has fallen the way you have,” Roland retorted, focusing on his own breathing.

“Maybe so,” drawled Walter, rising languidly from the bench. 

He could now see for certain that Roland was uncomfortable in this small space, the rich dark skin of his face and throat sporting a sheen of sweat.

“It’s almost mesmerizing now being on the same level," the Man in Black continued, "You live as long as I have, every situation can be molded to your liking. There is always a way to pass the time. To distract yourself from the walls closing in…”

Roland actually thought his lungs ached as Walter sauntered over to the small window, and slid down his dark slacks in one fluid motion.

Roland immediately averted his eyes from what were plainly slender, muscled thighs and - worst of all - that piercing blue gaze that caught the moonlight as they fixated directly on the Gunslinger.

Was this man actually mortal? His very movements were akin to a flowing river.

“Those of Keystone Earth have trapped us in here together,” Walter’s voice was like silk as she turned around to face Roland, wearing now only his thin, low V-neck shirt and black undergarment. “If you’re not going to kill me, why don’t we help each other forget that we’re suffocating in this mortal coil?”


	5. Chapter 5

Roland’s mouth had gone dry as a cornhusk.

While he succeeded in averting his gaze from the actual physique of the Man in Black, something deep in his core begged him to swivel his eyes back to the man standing at the window.

Then said man walked into Roland’s view to begin sauntering over – rendering the Gunslinger’s resolve moot.

“Is it your honor you’re afraid to lose?” Walter ventured, sidling up to Roland and leaning over until his face was a hair’s breadth from the latter’s.

After a brief glance at the empty desk beyond the bars of their cell, Walter returned his gaze to Roland’s with a smile that could melt gold. 

In an even lower voice, the former sorcerer whispered. “Looks pretty empty to me. Come on, this little revenge sexcapade has been a long time coming. You know you want it. Nobody’ll ever know…”

Too overwhelmed by his own fear of confinement accompanied by the surrealism of Walter’s lips on his throat, Roland actually hesitated for a moment before taking a horrific moment to relish in the sensation offered to him.

The Man in Black had gentle yet commanding lips, having carefully avoided Roland’s own and gone straight for the jugular – like a rabid animal. 

Walter’s fingers buried in his hair finally tore the Gunslinger from his temporary paralysis. 

Gritting his teeth in fury and feelings of violation, Roland gripped Walter’s hair in a grip twice as harsh.

After a hissed curse, Walter actually backed away, much to the Gunslinger’s relief.

Instinctually, Roland slid off the bench to back up even further, when he registered the softness of what felt like fur in his hands.

He glanced down, opening his palms. Chunks of dark hair shone in the moonlight. More than he ever would have expected, as he hadn’t even actively pulled the other man’s hair.

“Wh-what?” Walter now also eyed the pieces of his own hair in Roland’s hands.

“Both of us trapped on Keystone Earth again, indeed,” Roland’s gruff tone finally sounded once more. “The difference is, it looks like you’ll be staying.”

The Gunslinger’s words were met by the terrified blue gaze of his long-time nemesis.

Roland went on, “Seems like all those centuries of magics only protected you as long as you stayed alive. It’s just as you’ve always reminded me. Death always wins.”

Now it was the Gunslinger’s turn to back Walter up into the cell wall.

“Under those comely features, what are you? Just a desperate, savage, pathetic old man.”

Slamming Walter into the hard surface behind him, Roland smiled as his victim let out a rasping cough.

“Always the brave warrior eh, Gunslinger? Even without your weapons?” Walter taunted weakly, as he drew another rattling breath. “Picking off an ‘old man’? One whose years of experience make him used up, even though the years have left him untouched on the surface? One whom you consider less worthy than all your precious, soft virgin women?”

“What does it matter?” Roland’s expression was now one of glee, as he realized he could finally give into that sinful urge, not in an act of love but of revenge. His obsession could finally be quelled to the bitter end.

Even better, it was an obsession that they both shared. And obsession wasn't anything if not a perverse, unhealthy sort of passion.

He would be doing Keystone Earth - and the universe - a great favor. Even Walter's humiliating, painful death would come more swiftly.

“Besides,” the Gunslinger pinned the Man in Black to the wall with one knee as he removed his own belt and pants. “You’ve been practically begging, and it would turn out you are right. Here in the dark – no one will ever know. For you will not live to tell the tale.”

Walter simply closed his eyes, as Roland removed the former sorcerer’s undergarments.

“This is for my lineage,” he decreed, taking Walter by the hips and plunging into him.

Walter barely even cried out. Barely made a sound. After all, part of him had craved this for years. The shame from his lack of magic was what truly had him hapless at this moment. Otherwise, he would have surely pushed back with some vigor of his own.

Thrusting mercilessly into his enemy, Roland thought he could feel the man’s bones crack beneath his hands. 

“You will never take another life,” Roland grunted, relishing in the rapidly slowing breaths of the man in whose ear he hissed. “The centuries have finally caught up with you - stripped you down to your very last layer. The universe has had enough of your torturous existence.”

A shadow of a whimper from tehe shadows against the wall.

“I do not need my gun to kill,” he panted, fingers digging roughly into Walter’s pliant yet thinning flesh. “I kill with my heart.”

With a snap of his neck, the Man in Black was vanquished at last, crumbling to ashen dust at that Gunslinger's feet.


End file.
